


though i have closed myself as fingers

by blackkat



Series: we're either a story for the ages or a cautionary tale [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Crossover, Friendship, Humor, M/M, Protective Varia, Xanxus has a crush, and kindly needs to stop, before Tsuna's trauma is permanent, it's all a train wreck but at least it's an entertaining one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-24 01:11:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16630043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: Steve has no idea who these people are, but apparently they know how to live.





	though i have closed myself as fingers

Steve has no idea who these people are, but apparently they know how to live.

“Bedrooms are upstairs if you want to crash, the maids all scattered when we hit the place so no room service,” the second-in-command says, mostly distracted; he’s got one eye on the blond teenager with the tiara, while half of his remaining attention is the dark figure sprawled across the stairs.

“Thanks,” Steve says, and he’s still a little light on understanding whether this group actually owns the mansion where Hydra holed up and took it back from their occupation or if they’re just opportunistic squatters. He’s not going to ask, though; they saved Bucky, removed Hydra’s programming, left him a free man instead of the Winter Soldier. For that, Steve thinks, they could probably take over Washington DC and he’d give them some leeway.

“Don’t mention it,” Squalo says, a little darkly, and the look he gives Steve could skin a small animal at ten paces. He turns on his heel with a deliberate whirl of silver hair—and really, that _has_ to be a hindrance in a fight, how does he even manage to work around it—and stalks back towards Xanxus. Steve watches him go, marking how he aims his steps to pass the blond teenager on his way. Protective, even if they don’t show it outright, Steve thinks, amused.

“You do meet the most interesting people,” Natasha says, and she’s smirking, watching the ragtag group around them with sharp eyes. Steve casts a glance at her, then back over at where Bucky is sitting with the hooded, cloaked figure Steve hasn’t heard a name for yet. Their hands glow, just a little, where they're resting on Bucky’s head, but Bucky looks relaxed, peaceful, eyes closed as he speaks quickly, but softly. So different from the ragged man Steve fought in DC, and while part of Steve wants to be up in arms about any other people playing around with Bucky’s head, Bucky swears this helps.

“It was lucky we did,” he says.

Natasha hums. Drops her voice, barely a murmur, and says, “Falcon is keeping an eye on the outside.”

The breath eases out of Steve's lungs in a slow exhale, and he nods in thanks. He trusts these people—of course he does—but a backup plan is a good idea. He still has no idea _why_ this group was taking out Hydra bases, apparently without trouble. Xanxus’s _they pissed me off_ doesn’t explain why Hydra would have wanted one of their members, especially a teenager, to the point they’d kidnap him.

Then again, between the tech’s glowing hands and Xanxus’s apparent ability to summon fire out of thin air and survive cryogenic freezing, Steve's starting to get the feeling that these seven aren’t exactly what they seem.

The thought draws Steve's eyes back to Xanxus, who’s seated on the stairs, sprawled back like a lion surveying its kill. There are scars across his cheek and coming down from his hairline, wide and stark, and it makes Steve remember his words, the look on his face when he’d admitted to being frozen just like Steve was. Not by choice, either, Steve is sure. It makes him tense, a little twitchy; someone freezing someone else, keeping them that way—

“Be careful around him, Steve,” Natasha says quietly, though she doesn’t so much as glance over at him.

Steve doesn’t look at her, either. Looks at Bucky instead, because he’s smiling up at Squalo as the swordsman approaches, the tech easing back and folding themselves back into their cloak. Squalo waves a hand, saying something annoyed and pointed, and surprise flickers over Bucky’s face. He lifts his mechanical hand, and Squalo jerks his own sleeve down, displaying—

“Huh,” Natasha says, suddenly thoughtful, and when Steve glances over her eyes are narrowed. She ignores Steve's raised brow, her gaze sliding from Squalo to the tech to Lussuria as he lays out massive piles of food on the listing banquet table. The man is humming cheerfully, uncaring of the ruin all around them, though that seems to go for the group as a whole. If any of them are bothered by the destruction, they're not showing it. Then again, that could be because they're the _cause_ of the destruction. The mansion certainly didn’t look like this when Steve first scouted it five days ago.

The sudden ring of a phone cuts through the voices, and as one all of the group turn to look right at Xanxus. Xanxus glares at all of them, expression murderous, but he reaches into one of the pockets of his coat and distastefully draws out a cell phone, holding it between two fingers like it’s going to bite him as he levels an affronted look at the screen. Like a big cat, Steve thinks, and bites back a grin. He gets the feeling Xanxus wouldn’t welcome the comparison.

“VOII, IS THAT SAWADA?” Squalo demands, at easily three times the necessary volume. “BOSS—”

“Shut the hell up,” Xanxus snaps, viciously hits the power button, and shoves his phone back into his pocket. Steve was kind of expecting him to break it, with that expression on his face.

“If Sawada turns up, I hope he brings that sexy Sun Guardian of his,” Lussuria says with a dreamy sort of cheer.

“Don’t hope for that!” the brooding man with the penchant for umbrellas protests, jerking away from the wall where he’s been sulking. He raises a clenched fist, shakes it, and declares loudly, “I’ll stop them, Boss! If they turn up here, I’ll send them running just for you!”

“Fuck off,” Xanxus says derisively, but he rises, predatory and angry, and turns with a whirl of his coat like he’s going to stalk off into the depths of the mansion again.

At the same moment, there's a loud, echoing knock on the front door, a pause, a sharp and groaning creak. A voice calls out in Italian, and Steve can't quite catch the meaning of the words, though when he glances over at Natasha she has one brow lifted again. She stands, and Steve follows her up, not entirely sure why when none of the other people in the room look alarmed.

“Xanxus,” a voice calls, and Xanxus’s shoulders instantly tense, rise. He snarls, but he turns on his heel to face the main doorway just as a slender figure appears in the opening.

A boy, is Steve's first reaction. Then he takes another look, and while the newcomer is young, he’s definitely not a child. Early twenties, maybe, and Japanese, though his hair is a lighter brown than Steve tends to see. There are two more people behind him, a small woman with violet hair and a tall man with dark hair, both Japanese as well. All three are in suits, even though the second man is wearing a sword across his back and the woman is carrying a trident with sharpened prongs.

“Fuck,” Xanxus says, clear enough for Steve to catch, and scowls at the man in the middle. “What the fuck are you doing here, brat?”

“You weren’t answering your phone,” the brown-haired man says easily, and he’s smiling, just a little. “I heard it ringing from outside.”

Xanxus doesn’t freeze like he’s been caught, just glowers. “It’s under control,” he bites out.

Brown eyes slide away from Xanxus, over the half-ruined interior of the base, complete with gaping holes in the walls. The man doesn’t say anything, just gives Xanxus an exasperated, irritated look, and Xanxus bristles.

“Fucking _trash_ ,” he spits. “I’d like to see you actually get off your ass and deal with the fucking _Nazis_ invading Italy once in a while—”

“Maa,” the swordsman says easily, but he takes a step forward and to the side, not quite putting himself in front the other man even though the thought is there. “Squalo said something about bastards, but no one mentioned Nazis. Tsuna, you were reading Danielle’s journals about the war, right? Did she say anything about Civitavecchia?”

A thoughtful expression crosses the other man’s face, and he tips his head. “I think she did. She and her Guardians came looking, but they weren’t able to find any enemy bases here, not then.”

Xanxus grunts, dropping his hands to rest on the butts of his guns. The motion is a threat, but Tsuna and his companions don’t seem to notice. “We handled it.”

“Apparently,” Tsuna says, and then flicks a glance over at Steve and Natasha. Steve tenses, almost despite himself; there's something _heavy_ in those eyes, something sharp that feels like it cuts right straight through him. Tsuna's gaze only lingers a moment before it slides on to Bucky, though, and Bucky flinches.

Steve steps forward, but Natasha's hand turns to steel where she grips his elbow, and she hauls him back.

“Ah,” Tsuna says, a hesitation, and then he looks back at Xanxus. “Did you know there's another person on the roof?”

Xanxus’s eyes narrow sharply, dangerously, even as the swordsman laughs. The purple-haired woman clears her throat slightly, and says, “There _was_ , Boss.”

Steve tenses, hand automatically going for his shield. _Was_ , and there's no one they could mean but Sam—

A low, shivering laugh, eerie and unsettling, sounds from right behind Steve's left shoulder. He’s moving before he can even think of it, twisting around, grabbing, but only mist meets his fingers. Just beyond it, a man is suddenly _there_ , as if he always was and Steve simply couldn’t see him. Tall, thin, with long, dark blue hair caught in a tail, and he twists around the edge of Steve's shield like a dancer, gets right up in his face in an instant, and he’s grinning widely like this is the greatest game he’s ever played.

“Oya, you're a big one,” he laughs, and his eyes are mismatched, one red and one blue. Meeting them makes Steve's stomach lurch, sudden and sharp, like he’s being—

“ _Sawada_ ,” Xanxus snarls, loud and fierce enough to cut through the sensation of falling. “Control your fucking Guardians or I'm going to do it for you!”

Instant silence. At least four of Xanxus’s group are gaping at him, open-mouthed, and even the swordsman looks faintly surprised. Tsuna is blinking at him, entirely caught off guard for the first time, but when Xanxus levels a poisonous look at him he takes a step back.

“Mukuro, come,” he says, and the blue-haired man in front of Steve promptly vanishes in a whirl of smoke.

“That’s exactly what you were saying last night,” Mukuro says slyly, and he’s suddenly right behind Tsuna, even though Steve didn’t see him cross the space between them.

Red washes over Tsuna's face, and he splutters loudly. “ _Mukuro_ ,” he protests, hiding his face behind his hands.

Mukuro laughs, throwing an arm over the woman’s shoulders and leaning into her. “You’d best call off Kyōya, if we’re not fighting,” he says, smirking. “Or send Takeshi out to distract him.”

Tsuna winces, just a little. “Takeshi, would you…?”

“Of course, Tsuna,” the swordsman says cheerfully, and waves a friendly goodbye to the room before he turns on his heel and trots out. Moving quickly, Steve notes with concern.

“The man on the roof is with us,” he says, stepping forward. “We came here hunting Hydra, we’re not your enemies.”

“We have other things to do,” Xanxus cuts in, impatient as he scowls at Tsuna. “They're not our fucking enemies, Hydra is—”

But Tsuna is staring at him again, eyes slowly widening as he looks from Xanxus to Steve and back again. “Xanxus?” he says, like he’s checking that it really is, and Xanxus bristles.

“Fuck you,” he snaps. “Get that fucking look off your face, you piece of shit—”

“Chrome,” Tsuna says, a little faintly, and the woman makes an attentive, questioning sound, pushing Mukuro away and stepping forward. “Where’s Reborn?”

The woman looks worried, casting a careful look at Steve and Natasha before she answers, “He went to check the other building with Gokudera, Boss. Should I call him?”

“Yes please,” Tsuna says, and sinks down to the floor, covering his face with his hands again and groaning. “I need him to shoot me.”

Xanxus makes a sound of pure, incandescent rage and yanks his pistols out of their holsters. “Fucking _trash_ ,” he snarls, “ _I’ll_ shoot you—”

“I think,” Steve says, pitching his voice to carry, “that no one should be shooting _anyone_.”

Xanxus growls, gives him a filthy look, and shoves his guns back into place. Steve's really hoping they're more sophisticated than they look; it really doesn’t seem like a good idea to treat them that way otherwise. “If I did, it would be a pain in the ass dealing with your old man,” he says darkly. “Suffer and die like that, trash.”

If anything, that makes Tsuna groan louder, tugging on his hair. “No,” he says plaintively. “You shouldn’t have a—”

Lussuria laughs airily, but he catches Steve by the forearm and pushes him forward, right towards Xanxus, as he inserts himself between Steve and Natasha. “Why don’t you and the Boss take a look at the rooms upstairs?” he suggests brightly. “I think the former occupiers left some records up there that we haven’t gone over yet. And Decimo, I believe you know this gorgeous young man over here?”

Tsuna is still curled up in a ball in the ground, so it’s Mukuro who answers, gleefully cheerful. “He tried to kill Tsunayoshi a few months ago,” he says, crouching down next to Tsuna. “Oya, Tsunayoshi, if you don’t shape up I'm going to take your body. Are you finally going to let me win just because Xanxus—”

“VOIII, GO!” Squalo shouts, waving his arms at Steve. He shoves a finger at Natasha, making her raise a cool brow, and adds, “You! Go get your sniper or whatever the hell!”

“He’s not a sniper,” Natasha says mildly, but she steps past Steve and heads for the door, and Steve lets himself relax a little. Natasha and Sam together can manage almost anything. But that leaves Bucky, who’s still sitting next to the tech, watching Tsuna with dark, guilty eyes. Clearly Tsuna is someone important, and someone Hydra wanted dead, but _Bucky_ is the one who has to pay for it, and it makes Steve bristle, makes him want to throw himself in between Bucky and the rest of them, because Bucky was _brainwashed_ and it’s not his fault—

Lussuria's grip on his arm gentles, turns into a pat. “Go on,” he says easily, and tips his sunglasses down to smile warmly at Steve. “We won't let anything happen to your friend. Boss likes you, so you might as well be one of us.”

Steve smiles back, because he can tell Lussuria means it, even if Steve himself still has no idea what kind of group this actually is. “All right,” he says, because Tsuna's people don’t seem to be in any rush to make a move against Bucky—the mention of an assassination attempt was perfectly blasé, like it happens frequently—and even if they did, the tech is right at Bucky’s back, and Squalo is at his side. They saved him once already, and Steve wants to trust that they’ll do the same thing again.

“Even though he tried to kill someone you know?” he asks, because he has to be sure.

Lussuria laughs like it’s a great joke, and propels him forward with a surprisingly hard push. “Oh, Boss tried to kill Tsuna, too!” he says cheerfully. “At least three times. Your friend is in good company.”

“Tch. Not that I managed it,” Xanxus says disgustedly, but before Steve can even reach him he turns, stalking up the stairs. A little bemused, Steve follows the flare of his coat around the curve of the sweeping staircase, and when he casts a glance back at Bucky it’s to see that Xanxus’s people have closed ranks around him. Bucky himself gives Steve a quick, wan smile, but he doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. Steve lets that be a reassurance, because they really do need to know what Hydra took Bucky and Xanxus’s companion for, and hopefully the records up here will show it.

“You and Sawada are allies, even after you tried to kill him?” he asks Xanxus’s back, because Xanxus hasn’t paused.

The sound Xanxus makes is derisive. “He’s a pathetic piece of trash,” he says, which doesn’t explain how he reacted when Tsuna first showed up. Not quite deference, Steve thinks, watching him, but…maybe something close.

“What exactly do you do, that people in the family used to hunt Nazis?” Steve asks. “And apparently made it a tradition.”

Xanxus casts a look back at him over his shoulder, and the light catches on the wide scars, in his eyes—red, or something close, and Steve has never actually seen a person with eyes that color. “Family business,” he says, sharp with an undertone that says it has a deeper meaning. “And what’s Captain America doing poking around Hydra bases in Italy?”

“Looking for Bucky,” Steve admits without hesitation, and offers Xanxus a smile. “You knew my real name, so do you know about Bucky, too?”

Xanxus grunts, looking away—trying for disinterest, Steve thinks, even though he knew precisely who Steve was earlier, right down to the classified details. “Lost him in the Alps right before your plane went down,” he says.

“Hydra had him,” Steve explains, and the words still make something catch in his throat, tight and guilty and grief-stricken. He’d thought Bucky was dead, and then Bucky was alive but _gone_ , and now—

Another glance, and this time Xanxus’s gaze is narrow, assessing. “The brainwashing bullshit,” he says, and Steve nods. Opens his mouth to say that it wasn’t Bucky who tried to kill Tsuna, but the Winter Soldier, but before he can get the first word out Xanxus has already turned away again. He raises a foot, slams his boot into the first door off the upper hall, and when it crashes open he stalks through with a flare of his coat.

Steve loses his words to a bemused smile. Really, he’s seen a lot of people with style in this time—Natasha's is understated, and Tony's is showy, while Loki’s was overdramatic—but Xanxus’s is brutal but graceful. Almost surprisingly so. He doesn’t move like a soldier, but like a lion.

“Do you have any idea why Hydra wanted one of your men?” he asks, following Xanxus closely. The room doesn’t look like the type that would be boobytrapped, but with Hydra it’s always hard to tell. “Were they setting a trap for you?”

By the big desk in the corner, Xanxus pauses, and something like surprise flickers over his face. “For me,” he echoes, frowning, and it’s not a question. “I don’t think Hydra’d be that fucking stupid. The Var—” He stops short, blowing out a breath, and then closes his eyes, reaching up to pinch his nose.

Steve assumes it’s a name that would give away too much—Xanxus certainly seems to be trying to keep the truth of his group a secret, and while Steve doesn’t blame him, it’s making him a little nervous. Taking a breath, he reaches behind him, pulls the door closed. It doesn’t latch after Xanxus’s kick, but it only takes one firm tug for Steve to wedge it shut, and the gesture is more than enough. Xanxus’s eyes flicker from Steve to the door, then narrow, but he holds his ground. Turns, coat flaring, and deliberately rests his hands on the butts of his pistols. He doesn’t say anything, but the look on his face is warning enough for Steve to start talking.

“So,” Steve says mildly. “Want to tell me how six people can take out a whole Hydra base and leave nothing standing?”

There's a long, considering pause. Then, slowly, Xanxus drops one hand from his gun and raises it, and as he does, fire sparks. Red-orange-gold flames twist through Xanxus’s fingers, but if they burn him at all he doesn’t show any sign.

“Hydra’s fucking blind, and batshit on top of it,” Xanxus says bitingly, and the flame roars up like a bonfire. Steve jerks back, automatic, instinctive, but the curl of orange-gold isn't hot. It slides across his skin, away, back towards Xanxus’s hand, and when Xanxus closes his fist it isn't snuffed out like a candleflame would be. For a long moment it curls around his hand before it dies away, fading back beneath Xanxus’s skin instead of dying. It lingers there for a long moment, the light of it, and when Xanxus opens his eyes there's a curl of that same light in them.

 _Oh_ , Steve thinks, and straightens away from the door. “You have abilities,” he says, because Xanxus did the same before, in the tunnel. Did it without thinking, and without hesitating. “You all do?”

Xanxus’s nod is sharp, curt. He turns to look out the window, giving Steve his back, but…Steve doesn’t think it’s self-consciousness. Doesn’t even know if Xanxus can _be_ self-conscious, judging by what he’s seen of his personality. “Whatever the fuck mass delusion Hydra had that made them think Flame users would be an easy target, they're sure as hell going to think twice next time.”

The Civitavecchia base was a large one. Sam and Natasha estimated maybe a hundred men, and not all of them were noncombatant scientists. Clearly Xanxus’s group has had experience at things like this, and they’re good at it, too. But—

“They might come after you again,” Steve says. “And this time it won't be to lure you into a trap. Hydra doesn’t stop.” They managed to get Belphegor back this time, managed to save him before he could be changed in any way, but next time they won't be so lucky.

Xanxus snorts. “Somehow I think we’ll be just fucking fine,” he says dryly, then pauses. Glances back, and once more the light from the windows catches on his scars, turns his face into something sharp and full of cutting edges. There's a long moment of silence as Steve watches him, and then he scoffs and takes a step forward. “Viper says you’ve got some kind of shitty boyband,” he says derisively, and pauses next to Steve. Doesn’t look at him, keeps his eyes ahead, but says, “If you ever want some real backup, call me.”

Steve blinks, a little startled by the offer, but before he can so much as open his mouth Xanxus is gone. The sound of his boots echoes off the stairs, and Steve hears him snap, “Everyone up, we’re leaving,” in a tone that leaves no space for argument.

“Boss?” Squalo asks, even so. It’s not defensive, or at least not defensive _against_ Xanxus. Steve thinks he can hear a thread of worry in there.

“ _Move_ ,” Xanxus barks, and a shot makes at least one person yelp. There's a brief, loud commotion, but by the time Steve makes it to the top of the stairs Xanxus’s group is already heading out, streaming out the doors in a squabbling pack. Clearly this isn't the first time they’ve had to move without notice, and even if there's a good amount of bitching, no one hesitates.

“Xanxus!” Tsuna calls after them, exasperated, and he’s on his feet again, near Bucky but not paying him any attention. His eyes are on Xanxus’s retreating back, and when Xanxus doesn’t even look around, he groans and fists a hand in his hair.

“I don’t think it was something I said,” Steve offers, reaching the bottom of the steps just as the listing main door swings shut behind the group. Tsuna's swordsman is watching him with a cheerful smile that’s oddly intimidating, but Steve just gives him a smile in return and steps closer.

With a sigh, Tsuna drops his hand. “No,” he says wearily. “Xanxus is just… _like_ _that_.”

 _Like that_ has the weight of far too much experience and exasperation, so clearly they’ve known each other for a while. Steve can't help but smile, even as he glances over at Bucky. The purple-haired woman is sitting beside him, her arms around her knees and trident at her feet, and she’s talking softly enough that even Steve's hearing can only pick out a vague murmur. Bucky’s looking intent, though, and he’s smiling back a little. Mukuro is slouched against the wall behind them, playing on his phone, but his gaze keeps darting to Chrome; apparently Steve isn't the only one feeling protective.

“He seems like a standup guy,” Steve finally answers, and the look Tsuna shoots him is sharp but also exasperated.

“I'm glad you think so,” he says diplomatically, and then pauses. Stares at Steve for a long heartbeat, that strange weight in his gaze, and then offers, “He might not seem like it, but Xanxus is family, Captain.”

Clearly Xanxus wasn’t the only one who recognized him. Not that the uniform is subtle, granted. “Family,” Steve repeats, raising a brow, because Tsuna is quite clearly Japanese and Xanxus very much isn't.

Tsuna's eyes flicker to Bucky and then back to Steve, and the message is clear. “Family,” Tsuna agrees firmly. He meets Steve's gaze, and says earnestly, “Xanxus likes you, Captain. He doesn’t like many people. I just want to be sure you're aware of that.”

It’s a little funny, really, how very easily Tsuna can make earnestness sound like a threat. Steve swallows, and there's a cold shiver that traces its way down his spine that has to originate in Tsuna's amiable smile, even though it _shouldn’t_.

Then, all at once, the threat is gone. Tsuna reaches into his suit jacket and produces a card and he hands it to Steve with a polite bow. “Xanxus told you to call him,” he says, and it’s not a question. “Please do so at your earliest convenience.”

It’s the politest threat Steve has ever gotten. “I’ll do that,” he says, and takes the card. Heavy cardstock, but finely made, and the lettering is a simple black name in elegant cursive with a phone number underneath it.

“Vongola?” Steve asks, confused. “Doesn’t that mean—”

But Tsuna is already moving away, heading towards Bucky. He bows to Buck as well, even as Bucky scrambles up, and Tsuna offers his hand to Chrome. She lets him pull her to her feet, brushing down her skirt, and then smiles at Bucky warmly.

“It was nice meeting you, Sergeant Barnes,” she says politely, and picks up her trident, falling into place a step behind Tsuna.

“Thank you for not trying to kill me this time,” Tsuna says, _sincerely_ , like this is actually a thing that needs to be said, and he smiles at Bucky, too. “Take care of your friend. He seems like a good man.”

“I will,” Bucky promises, and his voice is quiet, but he casts a look at Steve and the expression on his face says he means it. Steve's heart turns over in his chest, sheer, fierce _joy_ at the idea that he has Bucky _back_ , and Xanxus and his group are to thank. He takes a step forward, and as Tsuna heads for the door he smiles at Steve again, swift and small.

“Good luck,” he murmurs, and then he’s gone, his guards falling into place behind him. Mukuro has vanished too, though Steve didn’t see him move, and the room—the whole _base_ —is entirely empty of any Vongola.

“Clam,” Steve says again, giving the card a bewildered look, because he knows at least that much Italian. Brooklyn was never short on restaurants selling pasta with clams, after all, even in the Depression.

“Mafia,” Bucky says, and when Steve glances up at him, taken aback, he shrugs, but he’s smiling a little. “Don’t give me that look, Stevie. Not like it’s news to you that little guys can be dangerous.”

 _Mafia_. Steve turns to look after Tsuna, even though he’s out of sight. It just—it doesn’t make _sense_. “But—they saved you!” he protests.

Bucky shrugs. “Hydra wanted Sawada dead because he was reforming the criminal underworld,” he says. “More peacekeeper than mobster. Xanxus and his Varia are the enforcers. Like a hit squad.”

That’s…a little more believable, Steve supposes, frowning. He glances at the card again, rubbing his thumb over the lettering, and debates dropping it, but—

They've got a history of hunting Nazis, took out a whole Hydra base by themselves. Steve thinks of Xanxus standing in front of the window, flames curling around his fingers and up through his eyes, and breathes out. Reaches up and touches his comm instead, and asks, “Sam? You okay?”

There's a click as the other end activates. “Please tell me your buddy the Winter Soldier didn’t give you the slip again,” Sam groans. “Because I just got beat up by a guy who called me an _herbivore_ and I want to sleep in a nice, soft hotel bed tonight.”

“He’s fine,” Natasha puts in, amused. “A few bruises, but the Guardian got distracted before he could do any damage.”

“You know them?” Steve asks, because that definitely sounds like familiarity.

Natasha hums. “When a group of Japanese teenagers starts taking over the Italian underworld and destroying Families that won't follow their new rules, my kind of people tend to notice. The Varia have always been dangerous, too, but add in their new support from the Vongola and they're even more so.”

Steve thinks of Tsuna's earnestness, the cutting sharpness of his gaze like he could read all of Steve's secrets at a glance. “I got that impression,” he says dryly. “Is this more stuff you won't tell me for my own good?”

There's a long pause. “No,” Natasha finally says. “Given the way Xanxus was looking at you, I think you should probably know everything I have on them.”

“Looking at me?” Steve asks, confused.

At the same moment, Sam cuts in. “Hey, whoa, looking at him _how_? Is this mafia assassin asshole trying to—”

“We’ll meet you back at the hotel,” Natasha says, and cuts the line.

A little aggrieved, Steve looks over at Bucky. “You ever get the feeling people aren’t telling you everything?” he asks.

Bucky stares at him for a long moment, then laughs. He steps forward, hooking a hand around the back of Steve's neck, and says, “I've got some flowcharts that might help you, punk. Come on. This place stinks of Hydra.”

“I don’t need _flowcharts_ , I just need a straight answer,” Steve complains, but he lets Bucky pull him along without hesitation, and he can't resist a smile.

“Nothing about this answer is going to be straight,” Bucky says dryly, and Steve makes a face at him. He slips Tsuna's card up the sleeve of his uniform, settling it against his skin, and makes a mental note to add the number to his phone as seen as he gets a chance. Xanxus wouldn’t have made the offer if he didn’t mean it, and the Avengers could always use another member.

Besides, Steve meant it when he told Tsuna that he likes Xanxus. Getting to know him a little more seems like a good idea, but Steve's already decided. The man saved Bucky, and for that, for his brusque understanding of being frozen when no one else has even vaguely understood, for the fire that curled through his fingers and didn’t burn—

Well. Steve's got few enough friends as it is. He likes to keep those he does have close.


End file.
